


Is that my shirt?

by hollyanneg



Series: Tumblr prompts [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam's teacher kink, Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29848749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyanneg/pseuds/hollyanneg
Summary: Adam has a laundry mishapFor the prompt "is that my shirt?"/"you look better in my clothes than i do.”
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: Tumblr prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193342
Comments: 7
Kudos: 117





	Is that my shirt?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Of_stars_and_moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_stars_and_moon/gifts).



> Set around BLLB

By his third year at Aglionby, Adam had decided Donors’ Evening was one of the most excruciating nights of the year. Standing around in the school cafeteria, eating finger foods and drinking overly sweet punch, making pleasant small talk with obscenely rich people who held his fate in their hands, trying to prove that he was worth the investment they’d made in his education.

Non-scholarship students weren’t required to attend, but a lot of them did anyway. Their parents were the donors, so they’d drag their kids along with them.

Adam was required to attend, and he’d convinced Gansey to go with him this year. Gansey, in turn, was making Ronan go too. Adam was relieved; it’d be slightly less awful if he wasn’t alone.

He just had one tiny problem. He was supposed to dress up, and his white dress shirt was unwearable.

Adam could only afford to do one load of laundry per week at Henrietta’s lone laundromat, so he washed everything together. A rogue red sock had turned his white shirt pink.

Technically, the shirt should’ve been dry cleaned, but that hadn’t even been on the table.

He examined it in his apartment above St. Agnes a couple of hours before he was supposed to be back at school. Could he get away with wearing it anyway? Some people had pink dress shirts, probably, right?

Except this one looked like a cherry pop tart, sprinkles and all. It was ruined. Adam cursed himself for his carelessness and prepared himself to do something truly distasteful—asking Gansey for help.

He went over to Monmouth carrying his suit but still wearing his school uniform, because if Gansey didn’t have a shirt for him, he’d have to wear his uniform to the event. As he walked over, he thought about how humiliating that would be. Further proof of his poverty. He imagined the donors whispering to each other—poor Parrish, he doesn’t even have any other clothes—and congratulating themselves on their benevolence towards such an underprivileged child.

He was absolutely seething by the time he arrived.

And then Gansey didn’t have a shirt. One of his was dirty, one didn’t fit, one he was currently wearing, and the others were at his parents’ house in DC.

Adam had flung himself into a chair and was contemplating his impending embarrassment when Gansey said, “Let me check Ronan’s room.”

The person in question wasn’t there at the moment. He’d disappeared after school to do who knew what. Adam wasn’t sure he 100% expected Ronan to show up at the school that night.

Gansey came back out of Ronan’s room with a white shirt. It was nicer than anything Adam owned—he couldn’t believe how fine it felt when he put it on. It was a little long, but fit well otherwise.

An hour later, Adam escaped from his first awkward conversation of the night—Tad Carruthers’ mom, who had told him all about her trip to Rome and her apartment in Paris and had invited him to come over to visit. He was definitely not going to visit.

As soon as he extricated himself, he turned and saw Ronan standing in the doorway. He’d come after all. He was already looking at Adam, already coming over. He was in one of his Sunday suits, the ones he wore to mass. He always looked so sharp in those. They lent him a slight air of respectability. It was a little easier to imagine him strolling into Aglionby as a teacher or a benefactor, instead of the school’s least committed student.

When he reached Adam, he smirked and said, “Having fun, Parrish?” He looked Adam up and down—quickly, so as not to seem too interested. But then he cocked an eyebrow. “Is that my shirt?”

Adam tugged at it a bit self-consciously. “Gansey let me borrow it. Mine was ruined.”

What kind of teacher would Ronan be, if he were one? He’d probably be more competent at teaching Latin than Barrington Whelk had been, but that was a low bar.

Ronan crossed his arms. He looked amused. “Ruined?”

“Laundry mishap.”

It was actually a little hard to imagine Ronan in this white shirt, although the mental image had Adam flushing a bit. Tonight, Ronan was in all black, as usual. The suit must’ve been tailored for him, the way it fit his lean frame so closely.

Distracted, Adam mumbled, “Hope you don’t mind.”

Ronan swung an arm over Adam’s shoulders. “You look better in my clothes than I do,” he said.

Before Adam could process that, someone called his name across the room. He turned to look. Milo, their English teacher, was waving him over. There was some woman with him—another donor to impress, probably.

“Ready for more fun, Parrish?” said Ronan in his ear. Adam shivered. “Let’s go ruin their night.”

“Ronan,” said Adam, protesting a little, but he was pleased not to have to walk into another one of these conversations alone.

And in fact, Ronan didn’t leave him alone for the rest of the night.


End file.
